JAVIER BECOMES ENAMORED OF THE SNAPPER CREEK LIBRARY BRANCH

Javier's father was a Columbian construction barron. He made a heap of money bringing Medellin out of cardboard estancias and into the Concrete Age before leaving Columbia in the mid 80's.

He wore starched pastel shirts and general Polo repetoire; he played rugby for one year while a cadet at military school in Peru. Javier's father, Martin, was not directly involved in the Cocaine business, but he did build moats and patio esplanades for men who directly stooged for men in the Cocaine business. Whatever the marimberos needed Martin built, and outside of dimension like volume, height, and width, Martin asked few questions.

If they needed a two-story pool or bifurcated spa domain, Martin quoted them a price, built it within budget, and usually had enough left over to add a piece of landscape flair at no cost. Martin did this by always quoting high, but making sure to stay within budget. You don't necessarily want to fleece a drug dealer and then ask them for some more money. One client asked him to build an island habitat to contain a Bengal tiger he had bribed through Miami customs (He claimed he was an exotic animal "e"specialist). Martin had to go to the Miami Zoo just to see how high the walls for the Bengal tiger cage actually were. He suspected at least 20 feet because tigers were massive carnivores but also suprisingly nimble.

He took Javier to the Miami Zoo on that day, and the kid was not really impressed. He was skitterish in the Snake Cave and breezed (practically jogged) through Terrarium World. So right after lunch when Javier asked his father Martin, how far away they were from home, Martin decided it was time to pack up and go back home. If he was luck, Martin could beat the rush hour maniacs and get home before Miami's auto arteries swelled up like an old lady's ankles and completely clogged every fucking aorta in the city. If he chose the right streets, he might even get home to watch Cali Deportivo take on Atletico Nacional. As he turned into the luxury complex where Martin lived with his only son, Javier's eyes glistened as he spotted the Snapper Creek Branch across the concrete pediment.

Martin thought that letting Javier go to the library across the sreet was dangerous, but most of the time gave in to Javier's predeliction. Besides, if Martin was always talking about the importance of education to Javier, then it might look a little hypocritical to question his fervor for reading and being around books. Javier said, "Papi voy a la biblioteca por que tengo que hacer un book report..." and the audio trailed off as Javier took off across the parking lot, checked both sides of the street for cars, and carefully bolted across. Javier opened the door and a delicate breath of air conditioning descended upon him like invisible spritz; he showed the lady his library card and proceeded to the juvenile section where he spent most of his time. Lately, he had been on this Pick Your Own Adventure kick and had gobbled most of the books in that section. As of late,Javier had turned his interest to Encyclopedias and Reference Books. He liked their girth and gravity and the determination it took to write so many pages about stuff.

It boggled him that people could know so much or that so much could have a specific name, even in a fancy dead language.